On an all night high off a midnight kiss
Some joke about making love not war is fitting here, especially because her efforts cause Thalassa to discard her weapon, meager and playful as it had been. When they first part, where Thal laughs with the ripple of nerves, the sort built from surprise more than anything, that's where fresh clarity starts to seep back in for Colt. It's just a slow trickle, but it doesn't have a chance to fully soak her through. She's only got time enough to lift her lashes in a blink, still half-sultry, lips pursing with an attempt to answer even when all she's got is more questions.
Thal sweeps her back in, the brace of her hands and the press of her mouth erasing anything else for a brief time. There's only the blaze of breath and the heat of a skipping pulse, a familiar comfort even if it's not the same shape or taste she's hoping for. It's easy to relent to being taken, to letting the distraction of skin hide away the cold rain and the rough wear of thoughts too sharp to hold without hurting. It's being wanted instead of wondering, being met instead of left, but it's also—wrong.
It's not who's lips these are, it's who's they aren't. The one thing she had been certain of, the one that made her travel up here at all, had been him. That previous stream roars in through the heat like a tidal wave now, the realization dampening the hum of the blood moon as she jerks out of Thal's grip. Her eyes flutter open and she inhales so sharp and sudden the breath sets like a blade in her ribs. Reeling back as if stung, she quickly abandons the drink in her hand to the ground, seeming to think it the poisonous offender here. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" she stammers, another step taken back as she recoils further, though she can't withdraw enough from herself.
She knows she's the one who initiated, but gods she can't find a reason why. Sohalia's kiss had been a surge of triumph, something fun and brief and liquor-fed. This...it'd been something longer, rich with passion, returned and lacking any thrill of victory or series of shots to blame anyone but herself. Had it just been a flash of blue eyes through the dark—is that really all it takes for her these days? She's not even wound up tonight, which is all thanks to him, and one of the major reasons she'd come at all, finally making up some part of her mind. Now though, to find she's so desperate not just for him, but for anyone? "I don't—"
She glances between the gathered, from Nova to Thal to Hawthorn and back, hand trembling as she lifts the side of it to her lips, pressing in where the heat of the unexpected kiss still lingers as a reminder. Has she lost her grip so badly that she's truly this lost? "I can't—" she whispers, words shaky around the edge of her fingers as they push in tighter to her mouth, unsteadily smearing the touch away. There's an apology in the glance she spares Thorn before she surrenders entirely to the welling force of this confusion, turning away and fucking running like hell.
Colt is out!
Thal sweeps her back in, the brace of her hands and the press of her mouth erasing anything else for a brief time. There's only the blaze of breath and the heat of a skipping pulse, a familiar comfort even if it's not the same shape or taste she's hoping for. It's easy to relent to being taken, to letting the distraction of skin hide away the cold rain and the rough wear of thoughts too sharp to hold without hurting. It's being wanted instead of wondering, being met instead of left, but it's also—wrong.
It's not who's lips these are, it's who's they aren't. The one thing she had been certain of, the one that made her travel up here at all, had been him. That previous stream roars in through the heat like a tidal wave now, the realization dampening the hum of the blood moon as she jerks out of Thal's grip. Her eyes flutter open and she inhales so sharp and sudden the breath sets like a blade in her ribs. Reeling back as if stung, she quickly abandons the drink in her hand to the ground, seeming to think it the poisonous offender here. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" she stammers, another step taken back as she recoils further, though she can't withdraw enough from herself.
She knows she's the one who initiated, but gods she can't find a reason why. Sohalia's kiss had been a surge of triumph, something fun and brief and liquor-fed. This...it'd been something longer, rich with passion, returned and lacking any thrill of victory or series of shots to blame anyone but herself. Had it just been a flash of blue eyes through the dark—is that really all it takes for her these days? She's not even wound up tonight, which is all thanks to him, and one of the major reasons she'd come at all, finally making up some part of her mind. Now though, to find she's so desperate not just for him, but for anyone? "I don't—"
She glances between the gathered, from Nova to Thal to Hawthorn and back, hand trembling as she lifts the side of it to her lips, pressing in where the heat of the unexpected kiss still lingers as a reminder. Has she lost her grip so badly that she's truly this lost? "I can't—" she whispers, words shaky around the edge of her fingers as they push in tighter to her mouth, unsteadily smearing the touch away. There's an apology in the glance she spares Thorn before she surrenders entirely to the welling force of this confusion, turning away and fucking running like hell.
Colt is out!
Colt
Got turned around in that setting sun and it turned into missing you
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
